


yêu

by roccketraccoon



Category: The Creatures | Cow Chop RPF
Genre: Drinking, Fake Chop, Friends With Benefits, M/M, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Past Drug Use, Pining, Smoking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-27
Updated: 2018-12-27
Packaged: 2019-09-23 11:05:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 18,833
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17079143
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/roccketraccoon/pseuds/roccketraccoon
Summary: this thing had been collected dust in my drive folder for months now, and I finally had the time to finish it.all thanks to my best duderachelfor reading through this 18k monstrosity and helping me improve it. thank you, dude, you're the best.anyways, hope y'all enjoy reading this. it's my first contribution to the cc fandom, fanfic wise, so go easy on me.





	yêu

**Author's Note:**

> this thing had been collected dust in my drive folder for months now, and I finally had the time to finish it. 
> 
> all thanks to my best dude [rachel](http://gavinsaleks.tumblr.com/) for reading through this 18k monstrosity and helping me improve it. thank you, dude, you're the best.
> 
> anyways, hope y'all enjoy reading this. it's my first contribution to the cc fandom, fanfic wise, so go easy on me.

_To **love** is to die a little on the inside  
_ _Because how many times do you love, and be loved in return?_

_⸻ Xuân Diệu, from **Yêu (Love)**_

***

Aleks thinks a lot these days.

On nights like this one, especially, when he’s feeling particularly lonely and the air is too tight around his throat. It leaves him restless, twisting and turning in bed until he just can’t take it anymore. The kitchen’s his next destination, usually, where he’d look for a bottle of wine, or beer, or something much stronger that he keeps in either his kitchen cabinets or his fridge. Then, he’d take it with him to the living room and drop himself down the couch, taking a sip straight from the bottle, then another, and another. He’d drink until his mind became hazy, his eyes grew heavy, and sleep would have no other choice but to come and capture him.

Tonight, though, he’s not in his living room. His bed hasn’t been touched since late last night, and sleep is something Aleks wouldn’t even dare wish for at this point, as it seems so far-fetched and distant—almost like a lost memory rather than something he should be doing each night.

Tonight has him sitting out in his backyard, on one of the poolside chairs, a newly-lit cigarette between the fingers of his right hand and a half-empty bottle of beer held loosely in his left.

He was at a party before this—just a small one at a local bar, because their crew has been working hard and a little break is very much deserved. It was fun—the most fun Aleks has had in weeks—and also the best escape Aleks could have asked for away from his own mind.

But then Trevor had to go and surprise everyone by introducing his _girlfriend,_ who was lovely and sweet and had a lovely smile to match with Trevor’s, and—Aleks’ heart clenches at the memory, at the vivid images of Trevor’s hand around the girl’s waist; his bright smile as he looked at her.

Aleks chose to leave a little bit after that, making up a lame excuse about being tired and running out of the bar as if there was something chasing him. He drove home in his own car, hating the fact that he wasn’t yet drunk enough to call for a cab instead, and that he didn’t have the guts to stay for a bit longer. At least until the party ended or until Trevor left before him, just so Aleks could prove (to himself, mostly) that he wasn’t so fucking gone.

Sighing, Aleks settles more on his chair, legs stretched out in front of him and crossed at the ankle. He takes a drag from his cigarette, swallowing the smoke down and keeping it in until his lungs scream for release. The burn of it is enough to evade his memory, and it’s preferable to the wild flame circling the region of his heart, burning only brighter with each passing minute and with every intention to hurt _._

He blows the smoke out, head tilted back to watch the vapor flow up to the sky in such a wistfully calm way. It stays for a second, then two, before evaporating into nothingness, allowing Aleks’ eyes to be captured by the crescent moon instead.

The moon is beautiful tonight, casting down her pale light and bathing both Aleks and his backyard in the same familiar somber mood that always comes with the night. Or that could just be Aleks projecting, because that would be the kind of thing that he feels too damn much when night time comes, and sleep doesn’t.

He raises his beer to the moon, in quiet admiration for her beauty and the way she holds herself so strongly up on that lonely sky, before taking another sip. A few stars twinkle down at him, like a sort of comfort Aleks would never admit that he was searching for, and he starts smiling, a dreary grin to match the mood of the night.

His phone vibrates where he left it, lying face down next to an ashtray and an almost-empty packet of cigarette on a table he keeps besides his chair. He stares at it, almost accusingly so, but doesn’t make the effort to pick it up and check for whatever just came in. It’s probably just another photo from one of his crew members—Lindsey, maybe, or even Brett—to let Aleks know how much he is missing out at the party he chose to run out on.

Aleks runs a hand through his hair, thinking that maybe he should have turned off his phone after the first message came—the message that seems to have burned a mark on the surface of his brain, that he can see clearer than daylight when he closes his eyes too tightly. It came very suddenly, that message, just moments after he walked through his front door, reaching for his phone as it vibrated in the pocket of his ripped jeans.

Trevor’s name flashed on his screen— _new message,_ his phone told him, so calm and small against the sound of his beating heart, breaking through his ribcage—and Aleks opened it up, quite innocently so.

The message was a confirmation; a clear statement of an ending that Aleks has spent so much time thinking about, waiting for— _hoping_ against. It really wasn’t much of a surprise, if he’s entirely honest with himself. Aleks has been expecting it for a very long time now, has always known that it would come eventually, but what he didn’t intend for was the pain that came with it; it was a strange sort of pain, the kind that was so empty, so numb that as his breath started to become shallow, his heart began to burn brighter than the force of a sun.

As painful as it was, some parts of Aleks are glad that it came through a message, instead of a voicemail, or God forbid, a face-to-face confrontation. He doesn’t think he could’ve handled it well if it had gone any other way, that he could just have gone into his kitchen and pulled out the first item he could reach for that contained alcohol from his fridge and made a run for his backyard. He doesn’t think he could have handled listening to Trevor’s voice telling him how it was over now, this little thing between them, and how it had been heading that way for a long time. Maybe longer than Aleks ever could've predicted.

He doesn’t think he could have handled looking Trevor in the eye, as the boy stuttered and tripped over his words. And Aleks would've had to be the bigger guy, smile and tell Trevor it's fine and he wasn't bothered by it, and he knew that the fun would have to end eventually. He couldn’t have done it without his heart punching out of his chest, though, letting all the things he’d been feeling too much bleed into his voice and expose him.

It’s stupid, Aleks knows, because he started this whole thing all on his own accords, so cocky and smug, thinking that it wouldn’t get out of control. But like everything in Aleks’ life, it ended up doing just that.

It’s stupid, it really is, to start sleeping with your friend—your co-worker, your subordinate, someone who you should never have even thought of in that way. It’s even more stupid, in every way, to realize halfway through that you’re in love with him, and not have the guts to say anything. Even as your relationship starts falling apart through one idiotic mistake after another and ends up like this.

Aleks sighs and takes another swig from his beer, emptying it before setting it down on the ground besides his chair. There’s a light buzz at the back of his head from the alcohol that's mostly from the drinks he had at the bar before this.

The beer won’t help him sleep tonight, just something to soothe this churning in his stomach —but he isn’t planning on sleeping anyway. Not with how his body is rioting against him, and his brain keeps feeding into all the thoughts of _what if’s_ and _maybe’s_ —things he shouldn’t be thinking about anymore. Sleep has become such a luxury these days, and now it’s one that Aleks thinks he can no longer afford.

“So you ditched us to go home and have a party of your own, huh?” a voice speaks up from across the yard, and it startles Aleks, breaking him out of his momentary reverie. He looks up to find James standing the door leading back inside the house, body leaning against the door frame with his arms crossed over his chest. His face is unreadable, half hidden in the darkness of the house, but Aleks can hear the amusement in his voice.

“I would have stayed if you people actually knew how to party,” Aleks quips, a lame attempt at humor that pulls a chuckle out of James nonetheless. Aleks can’t help but smile too, less somber than the night, and it momentarily dulls the fire around his heart.

James stands at the door for a moment, looking as though he’s contemplating something before uncrossing his arms and making his way to where Aleks is sitting. He settles himself down the chair next to Aleks’, sitting on the edge of the seat with his body angled towards Aleks.

“Did the party end already?” Aleks asks, tilting his head slightly as he looks at James. He doesn’t know how long he’s been sitting out here. Time is a hazy and foreign concept when your head is muddy with dark thoughts and the night is your only companion.

“Nah,” James answers, leaning back so that the palms of his hands can rest on the seat, head tilted up to admire the night sky like Aleks did just moments ago. “It was getting kinda boring, though, so I thought I might come over here and keep you company instead.”

“Hm,” Aleks says, thoughtful, nodding along with James’ words. “How’d you know I was still awake?”

James shrugs, still looking at the sky, his eyes shifting studiously as if searching for something distinct and hidden in the empty space between the stars and the moon.

“I didn’t. Was kinda hoping that you weren’t,” James replies, and Aleks frowns. He doesn't know what to make of it.

Neither of them really makes an effort to break the ensuing silence, and Aleks takes a drag of his cigarette, then another, mind pleasantly blank as he swallows down the smoke and lets the burn settle in for a bit too long.

“Didn’t you tell me you quit?” James asks quietly, but it’s still so sudden and unexpected that it makes Aleks jump a little. He glances over to see James looking at the cigarette lying dormant between Aleks’ fingers.

Right. He’d forgotten about that.

He’d forgotten that he wasn’t supposed to do this in front of James, that this was something he’d only do in private, or on nights like this one where he’s all alone and at the mercy of his own thoughts. Nobody was supposed to know because Aleks is in the habit of making more promises than he’s able to keep.

“It’s been a rough day, dude,” Aleks sighs, rolling the cigarette between his fingers with no real intention of dropping it and stomping it out. “Give me a break, alright?”

James hums thoughtfully, eyes distant for a moment before reaching out a hand. Aleks stares at it for a few moments too long before hesitantly passing his cigarette over, half expecting James to stomp it out under his DC’s. To Aleks’ surprise, James brings the cig to his lips and takes a drag, narrowing his eyes as he breathes the smoke out, like he’s letting go of all sorts of burdens that he’s been holding on for too long.

“This thing’s not good for you, you know,” James says, and Aleks snickers, quirking an eyebrow in agreement. He’s heard that lecture so many times from Brett, that fucking health freak, and a part of him is sick of it, but mostly, it’d be nice if James gives him the same talk, just so there’d be something to fill up the silence between them.

“What’s going on with you?” is what James says instead, handling the cigarette back to Aleks. He’s sitting forward in his chair now, his elbows resting on the top of his knees as he looks at Aleks intently. “You’ve been kinda… off, lately, and now you’re smoking again. Is there anything you want to tell me, Aleksandr?”

Aleks looks at his friend for a moment, watching the way his face is half obscured by the shadow from the tree branches overhead; the way he’s watching Aleks intently, _expectantly._ He tries to depict the meaning behind James’ eyes, and his words too, but James is always good at hiding what he’s feeling, and Aleks has never been good at reading people anyway.

“It’s just one smoke, James,” he says in the end, sighing again and feeling more tired than ever before. Maybe he will try to get some sleep in tonight; maybe it will come to him eventually if he stays still enough in bed.

“That pack on the table doesn’t look like you’ve been smoking only one.”

 _Busted,_ Aleks thinks, grinding his teeth together. For a moment, he prays for James to drop the subject and maybe leave so Aleks can wallow in peace. He knows James won’t go anywhere, though, not when he’s sounding like that—purposeful, his eyes crinkling with a mission that he won’t drop until he’s accomplished it.

Aleks brings a hand up to his hair, fingers caught in the tangle of days-old oil gathering up in the locs. “Look, I’m just stressed out, okay? A lot of things have happened the past few weeks, and I’ve been losing sleep because of it. It’s fine, though, I’ll get over it soon enough. There’s no need to cause a hassle over it, dude.”

“Just stress, huh?” James says incredulously. Before Aleks can even jump in and agree with him, he asks, “Are you using again?”

His voice is clear and void of any judgment or accusation, and Aleks can do nothing but stare at him in disbelief, mouth gaping like a fish caught on land, asking, “What—”

“I mean, I’ve been waiting for you to tell me,” James cuts in, looking down at the ground, watching the ashes that have fallen from the cigarette when he handled it back to Aleks. “But you clearly have no intention of doing so. So, I’m asking you right now, and I need you to be honest with me. I won’t be mad, I promise— or, well, at least I’ll try not to be, but we’ll figure this out together. We’ll find you a good rehab center—”

“James,” Aleks calls, loudly over James’ words, causing him to stop and look up at Aleks. “I’m not using, okay? I swear.”

James watches him for a moment; he watches the way Aleks shifts in his chair, turning so he’s sitting on the edge of the seat as well, facing James fully in some vague hope that it’ll be enough to convince James of the honesty of his words. It doesn’t work, though, because James sighs, a disappointing sound that echoes through the air and rings loudly in Aleks’ head.

“You don’t look like it, though,” James says, frowning, a storm raging over his eyes and slowly bleeding into his voice. “When you come into work these days, you’re always either tired or hungover, or sometimes both. You’re smoking again too, something you told me you’d quit months ago. All of those things combined makes me wonder what other bad habit you’ve picked up as well.”

When James is finished, Aleks opens his mouth, ready for all the words to come out so he could defend himself and convince his closest friend in this entire world that it isn’t true, that Aleks isn’t using anymore, but Aleks finds himself at a loss of words. He closes his mouth, then opens it again only to meet with the same result.

He thinks about what James just said, and the wild flame flares up again in his chest, for different reasons but painful nonetheless . He can’t blame James for thinking like that, or for coming to that conclusion, because even though Aleks hasn’t been looking in the mirror a lot lately, he can still guess he must look every part of an addict.

For a moment, he wonders if the others in the crew see it too, if they’ve come to the same conclusion, and James is only here because they elected him out of the rest to come and question Aleks. Aleks knows he must be looking more and more like a part of their past that neither of them should even be thinking about right now.

To think that Aleks didn’t even dare to use sleeping pills for his insomnia, that he was afraid it would be the first step down the wrong path, only for now to be accused of something he’s been trying so hard to avoid.

Aleks takes a drag from his cigarette, making it a long and drawn out one, until he can feel the heat from the tip tingling at the skin of his fingers. He holds it for as long as possible, almost not wanting to let it go, but he’s only human after all. A human who is weak and so packed with emotions that he doesn’t know how to deal with, and has a habit of making more promises than he can keep.

“I’m not using,” he says again, clearer this time, eyes not looking at James. He puts out the cigarette in the ashtray on the table, watching the fire dies out and wishing that it could be the same for the burning around his heart. “You can take my blood if you want. Or piss. Anything you need for a test to prove it.”

The silence coming after that is a heavy one, draping over them like thick blanket with no breathing holes for air to float in. It’s suffocating, and it hurts more than the burn of smoke in his lungs or the fire against his chest could ever, and Aleks can’t help but add, “Maybe it’d be better if that’s the case, huh?”

It’s a quiet thought, mostly to himself, but it rings loudly in the air, becoming a joke so void of humor that it makes Aleks cringe, wanting to reach out his hand and catch the words and shove them back down his throat.

It’s a fucked up thing to think about, he knows, considering how that part of the past was such a bad one for the both of them, and for anyone else who was unlucky enough to be drawn into it. That still doesn’t stop him from thinking more about it, and it makes sense with every second the thought remains in his head.

Falling into that pit again would have been a whole lot better than falling in love, because at least with drugs, he still had some sense of peace and freedom when the high was still swirling around his mind. With love, however—well, that shit just sucks.

“What is it, then?” James asks a short moment later, and when Aleks opens his mouth to answer, James quickly jumps in, “And if you say it’s because of stress again, I will punch you in the fucking teeth, dude.”

Aleks can’t help it, he laughs, hearing James chuckle as well, and the heavy air moves away, taking along with it that somber mood of the night.

He thinks about it; thinks about what he should tell James now that his secrets can no longer be kept hidden. He looks at the ground, considering it, until he feels James shift, eager for another question.

“I’m in love.”

“Oh _God,_ ” James groans, causing Aleks to look up at him. He's ready to face whatever judgement he was expecting but only catches James rolling his eyes at him, looking every part like an overworked parent being told that his son’s emo phase isn’t just a phase.

Aleks feels a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips as he watches the way James sighs once, looking up the sky and no doubt asking for some patience from the moon above. James doesn’t say anything when he looks down again, only shaking his head and rolling his eyes one more time before standing up and walking away. He disappears into the darkness of Aleks’ house, and Aleks is confused for a moment, wondering if he should follow.

He doesn’t have to consider the answer for long, because James appears at the doorway again after a moment, bringing with him a bottle of whiskey and two empty glasses. Aleks can’t find it in himself to mind the smile taking over his lips.

James makes his way over to where Aleks is sitting again, taking long strides and purposeful steps, and settles himself down back on his chair, sitting fully on it this time. Aleks mirrors James’ motions as James pops the cap of the bottle, pouring them each a glass of the strong liquid. He hands one over to Aleks, and Aleks takes it, quirking an eyebrow at his friend.

“Go on,” James says, with a flourish of the hand holding onto his glass of whiskey, and Aleks can’t help but laugh at the ridiculousness of it.

Aleks sighs, but it isn’t very pensive this time, more like a relief as some weight is lifted off his chest. He’s always heard that confessing is good for the soul, and now he can understand why.

He keeps a smile on his face, mostly to fight the burn in his chest, and thinks about where he should start. He takes a sip of his drink, thinking back to the beginning of it all—of all the sleepless nights and the flame making a home in his chest—and starts his story.

***

The first time he and Trevor slept together, Aleks barely has any memories of it. He can recall quick and blurry images; instances of events with no real beginnings or clear endings—flashes of skin on skin, of a hand brushing down his naked back, of bitten-red lips pressing against his own—all wrapped up in an alcohol induced haze that felt more like a midday fantasy than reality.

And it could have been just that—just something Aleks’ mind made up when he was bored and too sleep-deprived at the warehouse, waiting on Brett to find them a new job. But Aleks does remember the morning after, when he woke up with a banging headache, squinting against the harsh sunlight pouring through the gauzy blinds of the hotel room’s windows, and found Trevor laying beside him, naked and face slacken with sleep.

Aleks remembers that he spent too much time staring at Trevor’s face, peaceful and soft, before forcing himself out of bed, his vision blurred and his headache intensified in protest. He put on his clothes as quietly as he could, and without another look at Trevor's sleeping figure on the bed, Aleks left.

The days after that were flooded with work, and Brett yelling out orders as they all scrambled to follow. Aleks had never been more grateful to have something to focus on.

That should have been it, really. It should have ended there. It should have just been something to dwell on when Aleks was too drunk to think about anything else but past mistakes, and then he’d drink some more to forget about those too.

But then the job was done and over with; it was a rousing success, and success calls for celebration. Aleks was there, sitting at the bar alone with too much alcohol in his system to forget to stop himself from doing anything stupid, but still sober enough to remember the things he shouldn’t be thinking about.

Like how Trevor was standing across the room, just off to one side of the dance floor, a drink in one hand and a conflicted look on his face. Trevor, who looked so pretty under the flickering lights of the night club, who was wearing that stupid jeans jacket of his and looking so out of place that Aleks just _had_ to come over and rescue him.

Aleks didn’t quite remember how they got from there to _“Let’s go back to my place”_ to making out in the backseat of a taxi to Trevor sucking a mark on Aleks’ collarbone as they fucked on Aleks’ unmade bed.

Next morning brought on another banging headache not unlike the first time, though not as severely, and there was no sunlight threatening to burn his eyes out this time around. Trevor was nowhere to be found, and Aleks was almost relieved—maybe it was all just a dream that his drunken mind made up based on broken memories of a night that should never have been reality. But the ache in his body and the message in his phone told him otherwise.

_last night was fun. jakob wanted an early breakfast so i couldn’t stay. see u at work._

Aleks threw his phone carelessly on the pillow besides him, looking up the ceiling and thinking about how this could be a problem. Maybe it already was, and Aleks was too much of an idiot— _“Still is,” James mutters under his breath_ —to stop it from going on further.

The third time it happened, they gave it a name—or at least, Aleks did.

It started with a fight at the warehouse, between Aleks and James. It was the sort of fight that had other members of their crew standing off to one side, too afraid to step into the spitfire between them. It was the sort of fight that left them both exhausted, face red and blood burning, staring the other down as they were too wound up to back down and admit their own flaws. It was the sort of fight that had Aleks storming out of the warehouse, hands shaking as he balled them into fists by his sides.

He didn’t notice Trevor following him, didn’t even realize it until the boy was already in his car, settling in the passenger seat with a sweet smile and a playful “You wanna play some Mario Kart?” Looking back, this was one of those moments where, if Aleks had known better, he could have stopped it from going on any further. He could have said, _“No, Trevor, I don’t want to play Mario Kart. I’m fucking pissed and I wanna drink until I forget this day ever happened.”_

As it was, however, Aleks only nodded before putting the car into drive and pulling out of the warehouse’s parking lot.

The drive was short and neither of them made too much of an effort for conversation, and with the easy silence between them along with the orange hue from the sunset casting down on their faces, Aleks felt the rage in his blood subside.

Aleks doesn’t really remember what, exactly, went through his mind in the walk from his car to his house, but there was a shift, and Aleks took a hold of Trevor’s arm when the boy moved to the living room, mumbling about how he’d set up the game while Aleks went to get beers.

Trevor turned, a confused look on his face along with that gentle smile that Aleks adored— _still does, as his heart reminds him_ —too much. Aleks looked at Trevor through heavy eyes and the sleep-deprivation clinging to his body, and said, “I changed my mind. Let’s have sex instead.”

He doesn’t give Trevor much of a chance to refuse, pulling him in and pressing a too hard kiss on his lips that Trevor returned after a short moment of stillness.

The third time happened like that, in the comfort of Aleks’ bedroom, without any sorts of medium rushing through their veins and making their mind hazy, offering them an excuse that maybe this was something that they couldn’t control in the high of the moment.

They were both too sober, and Aleks’ mind reminded him that this _was_ a problem now, if it hadn’t been before; it was a complication that both of them were too willing to let happen, and Aleks, _fuck,_ he hated complications.

He’d had the misfortune of living long enough through both his life and this lifestyle of theirs to know that complications only lead to disaster. But there was Trevor, kissing a mark into Aleks’ collarbone and whispering sweet nothings into his skin, and Aleks had his eyes closed tight, allowing the contact of their skin to be the only thing occupying his mind.

Afterwards, when they were lying naked next to each other on Aleks’ bed, sated and pleasantly burnt out, Aleks suggested that maybe they should continue this, that it was a good way for them to de-stress, to blow off steam, to have something to focus on until their mind stopped screaming incomprehensible thoughts at them.

 _Friends with benefits,_ Aleks called it. _Just casual sex,_ he added.

 _Sure,_ Trevor said after a beat, and Aleks glanced over to watch the way Trevor’s lips were wrapped around the joint they’d been sharing. His expression was almost unreadable, but Aleks didn’t try too hard to decipher it, glancing back to the ceiling where all the smoke had gathered, creating white clouds that only added more to the hazy feelings of the moment.

They make up rules for it too, to keep it from getting out of hand and complicate things further: no sleeping over, no pet names (unless ironically), no hickeys in places that clothes couldn’t hide, no kissing unless to initiate sex, and last but not least, no fucking around in the warehouse. Aleks kept naming it and Trevor kept humming in agreement.

The joint was almost done by the time they did, and Aleks put it out on the ashtray on his bedside table.

“I can’t believe we forgot the most important one,” Aleks remembers himself saying, a few moments later, when he was settled back in bed and the ceiling was in his view again.

“What’s that?” Trevor asked, turning his head sideways to look at Aleks.

Aleks turned to face him as well, biting his lips to suppress a smile. “Don’t fall in love, duh.”

It was a joke, kind of, because they both were supposed to know that already. It was needless to say, but somehow, the words still hung heavily in the air between them as Trevor blinked once, twice, before turning his head so he was facing the ceiling instead of Aleks.

“What kind of idiot would fall in love with you?” Trevor said, scoffing a little.

His face was unreadable, clouded with thoughts that Aleks’ drowsy mind didn’t try so hard to decode. He opted to feign offense, instead, hitting Trevor on the arm as the two broke into a giggling fit.

“Fuck you,” he said, trying and failing to keep the laughter from his voice. “I’m fucking _charming,_ alright? Plenty of people are head over heels for me.”

“Not me,” Trevor replied, looking at Aleks through the corner of his eyes as his lips curved up at the corner.

“Not even a little?” Aleks asked, moving in closer and hovering above Trevor with his elbows resting at either sides of Trevor’s head.

“Nope,” Trevor replied, and Trevor looked good when he smile, Aleks decided— _he looks good always, his mind unhelpfully provides_ —before leaning in closer so he’d get to feel it against his own lips.

The fourth time happened right then, and it was too easy, too simple, and looking back at it now, Aleks couldn’t say that he regretted it. Not all of it at least. He enjoyed the time he and Trevor spent together, the sex that came so easily between them, and the way they'd slip into easy conversation about things that didn't really matter after each session.

They didn’t tell anyone about their little arrangement; it was an unspoken rule between them. They weren’t ready to face the complications that would come if their friends found out, all the questions and the teasings and the workplace rules that would be broken. Also, if Aleks was being honest, the secrecy made up for half of the fun of it.

They were fine with that, and life was great.

Then the first rule was broken the next time they fucked, when Trevor was too tired to leave Aleks’ bed. They had both had a long day at work, running around on errands to prepare for the upcoming heist, and Trevor had been more than active in bed. Besides, Aleks couldn’t say that he minded the way Trevor pressed closer behind him, an arm slung over his waist to pull him in, lips peppering kisses on the back of his neck. The last part could have been a dream though, as Aleks was already half-asleep as Trevor was in the middle of saying how he’d get up early tomorrow, to avoid them coming in to work together.

The second rule was broken in the midst of fucking, in the high of the moment where Aleks let a ‘мой милый _’_ slip from his lips, and couldn't remember choosing to say it. He still doesn’t know if Trevor actually knew what it meant, but it drew a moan out of him nonetheless, as he picked up the pace until Aleks forgot about anything that wasn’t Trevor’s body against his. The words felt less and less ironic every time Aleks whispered it into Trevor’s skin— _as if it ever was, his heart belated realizes._

When the next three rules were spoken, all at once, it should have been enough as a warning for Aleks to put an end to this thing between, but as James said, he was an idiot and still is, and so he let it happen.

He allowed Trevor to pull him into that warehouse’s bathroom when everyone had gone out for lunch. Everyone except for Lindsey, who was taking a nap on the couch behind her work station, unaware of whatever was going on around her.

Aleks allowed Trevor to press him against the wall next to the sink, lips locking together too harshly to be enjoyable.

 _No kissing unless to initiate sex,_ Aleks recalls how his mind was screaming those words at him, at the way Trevor’s lips moved to the side of Aleks’ neck, biting down to create a hickey where his hoodie couldn’t quite hide, and instead of pushing him away, telling him that they should stop, or that they should at least go somewhere that wasn’t their workplace, he only pulled Trevor closer, mumbling that endearment in Russian again as encouragement.

There had been a fight again, between Brett and Trevor this time, about how Trevor was still too young to go out on the field with them. Aleks saw this as a way to repay him for the time Trevor had helped Aleks forget about his own fight with James.

It didn’t go any further than just rough touches and sharp kisses, and Aleks didn’t force it, holding onto Trevor until the boy stopped shaking with unshed tears, until lunchtime was over and their friends were back. Aleks left wordlessly, allowing Trevor to clean himself up as Aleks himself went out to greet James, as if nothing had ever happened.

Complications finally came on a typical sunny day of Los Santos—or evening, to be more accurate—in the form of a passing thought. It was gentle and soft, like the afternoon breeze when the sun wasn’t too high up in the sky anymore. Realization set in not too long after that—only took Aleks one, two, _three_ seconds, and the little breeze turned into a storm; a hurricane rushing over the crooks and cranes of his brain with a fierce determination to swallow him whole.

They were at a bar again—it seemed that Aleks’ mistakes started when he walked into a bar, like some outdated joke that doubled as a cautionary tale that people told each other around a campfire in the dead of night. The reason for this trip, Aleks couldn’t quite remember; not that it mattered anyway, as Aleks was pleasantly tipsy, mouth ranting on and off to Asher about something or other until he caught it. Laughter, so familiar Aleks couldn’t miss it.

Aleks’ next mistake was to look over, to see who it was coming from. Across the room from him, Trevor was standing next to Brett, who was saying something while gesturing wildly with his hands, and the boy was laughing. Like, _laughing._ With his head thrown back, eyes closed tight with little crinkles at the corners, a hand pressed to his chest as laughter sprung from his mouth.

There were a lot of things to blame it on in that moment,the way his heart fluttered and jumped:

  * The alcohol burning up his veins (but he wasn’t _that_ drunk);
  * The slow in time he’d feel after a long day holding up in the warehouse, finalizing the last details for a heist (the atmosphere inside the bar felt too much like a daydream);
  * The dimmed lights of the bar’s interior (casting shadows down on Trevor’s face in a way that made Aleks’ breath catch in his throat, every bit of air in the room stolen away by the sight alone).



He remembers wanting a lot of things in that moment. He wanted to stand up from where he was sitting on the bar stool, abandoning Asher to his own thoughts, and cross the distance keeping him away from Trevor. He wanted to take Trevor’s hand in his and press a kiss to his cheek, and maybe one more on Trevor’s lips too so he could taste the surprise smile he’d get.

He wanted to take Trevor home with him, wanted to take him to bed, to sleep and just sleep—the most innocent sense of the word, and that, right there, was where his thoughts all came to a halt.

 _What the fuck?_ He remembers thinking, his breath quickened as his heart beat out of rhythm in his chest, wild and violent. Realization was a storm, like he’d described it, and it almost knocked the breath out of his chest, almost caused his heart to crawl up into his throat and take over his entire being and command him to do _exactly_ what he had wanted.

The girl sitting down next to Aleks was a good distraction, with her low cut shirt and her too sweet voice, pulling his gaze away from a certain boy his mind was suddenly too hung up on.

She said hi, smiling bright—too bright. It was nowhere near as gentle as the smile he’d get from Trevor when it was just the two of them in Aleks’ bed. Aleks took a drink, downing the rest of what was left in his glass, and said hi back to her.

Aleks allowed himself to get lost in the lull of their conversation, trying hard not to divert his eyes away from this beautiful girl in front of him to look at a certain someone else. He started when she asked if he lived nearby in a sultry tone, almost wanting to shoot her down. Instead, he downed another glass of alcohol that the bartender had put in front of him, feeling the skin of his neck crawl before he looked up to find Trevor watching him, something hidden behind his eyes.

Aleks’ heart sped up in his chest once again, and he looked back to the beautiful girl next to him—whose name he couldn’t recall for the life of him—and said yes, let’s get out of here, let’s go somewhere where he didn’t have the risk of doing something entirely too stupid and messing things up for everyone.

He left the last part out, of course, and the girl giggled, a lovely sound coming from her lips as she stood and followed him out of the bar after he’d paid for their drinks.

It was a good decision to take her home, he told himself, because maybe his brain was just confused, mistaking all that lust and sexual attraction for something stupid like… _something stupid_ that Aleks tried to define but the word wouldn’t even form right in his mind, so there was no way it could be real.

The girl—Kate? Kara? Karen? He still can’t remember—was good to him, whispering sweet things into his ear and moaning his name like a prayer every time he thrust into her, and yet, it still wasn’t enough to stop his mind from screaming so loudly at him.

He asked her to leave the moment they were done, didn’t bother to pay attention to what she was yelling and cursing at him as she stormed out the front door. He felt guilty, kind of, but the burn around his heart and the churning in his stomach didn’t stop until he couldn’t see and hear her anymore.

He lay in the stillness of his bedroom, the ceiling became his closest as he counted the tiles in almost darkness, counted all the seconds until his mind stop buzzing, soundlessly calling for a name that seemed to have carved itself straight into his bones.

When the silence became too deafening, too claustrophobic, he scrambled off the bed and picked up his jeans where they were thrown carelessly on the floor, sliding his phone out of the front pocket.

Looking back, Aleks will admit that he isn't proud of what he did next, but his heart burned with each passing seconds with the thought of _Trevor._ His entire body craved for his touch, and so he hit call, and Trevor picked up after the fourth ring.

“Can you come over?” Aleks asked, his voice sounded rough and too loud in the silence. He didn’t comment on the lack of music like what he’d remembered was playing at the bar, or the general lack of any noises besides Trevor’s own breathing, as he waited for an answer.

“Why?” Trevor asked in return, and there was confusion in his voice, along with something else that Aleks couldn’t quite decipher—can’t now either, despite remembering it too clearly.

Aleks knew that could have texted, or written out one simple line of message and hit send, but, in all honesty, he’d wanted to hear Trevor’s voice, to have something to accompany him in this strained silence clogging him his room.

“I want you to fuck me,” he said eventually, succinct and low, and Trevor said nothing back.

For a moment, Aleks thought the boy had left, taking the phone off his ear to look at the screen just to be sure, but Trevor whispered back an _‘okay’_ and hung up without waiting for Aleks to respond.

Aleks threw his phone on his bedside table, flinching at the sound it made as it hit the wooden surface before settling down near the edge. He fell back into bed and stared at the dark ceiling again, his heart clawing at his chest and his mind berating him for being so weak.

It wasn’t long before Trevor arrived at Aleks’ house, letting himself in using the keys Aleks had given him. It was a simple gesture, so Trevor could let himself in and out, and neither of them would need to say anything to each other.

Even so, Trevor hesitated at the doorway leading into Aleks’ bedroom, face hidden in the shadow as he watched Aleks, who was lying unashamedly naked on the bed. It didn’t matter much what Aleks could or couldn’t see in his face, because Trevor was stepping in closer now, taking off his clothes as he went.

Aleks remembers so vividly how his body tingled at their first touch, at the very moment Trevor put his hand on Aleks’ waist to pull him in closer. When their lips finally met, Aleks felt like he was flying, like he was on the sort of drugs he used to be addicted to once upon a time, and his brain told him that _yes, this is it, this is right._

It was over all too quickly, leaving them exhausted and sweaty and blissed out of their mind, lying side by side on Aleks’ messy bed.

“Where is she?” Trevor asked all of a sudden, when the air got quiet again. “The girl you were talking to at the bar. I saw you walking out with her.”

“Hm,” Aleks said, distracted, smiling wide as he shifted just slightly and felt the ache between his legs. “She wasn’t all that great in bed so I kicked her out.”

It was half a lie and half the truth, though lacking some details, but Trevor didn’t need to know that.

They’d turned on the lamp on Aleks’ bedside table some time ago, and it provided some clarity to the expression on Trevor’s face, shifting ever so slightly at Aleks’ answer. Aleks kept a playful smile on his lips, pretending not to notice.

“Oh,” Trevor replied, quiet, barely a whisper though still too loud in the quiet atmosphere of Aleks’ bedroom. With his eyes caught on the ceiling, he continued, “So we’re allowed to fuck other people, then?”

The question caught Aleks off guard, not expecting it at all, and the smile slipped off his face. He remembers too clearly the way his heart screamed, ached and burned like it was starting a riot inside his ribcage, urging him to say that _no, Trevor, at this point I only want you, no one else_. But the words caught in his throat, choking him up with all sorts of emotions that he didn’t know how to deal with.

And so all he managed to say was, “Yeah. Why not, right? I mean, it’s not like we’re dating or whatever.”

The ensuing silence was heavy, thick and rough, and Aleks bit his tongue to keep from saying anything further. His heart was beating so loud in his chest that he wondered if Trevor could hear it through the space that suddenly seemed so vast between them.

Aleks counted the seconds in his head again. He did that a lot that night, too wrapped up in his own thoughts and that had never proven to be good. He counted _one, two, three, four_ then _five,_ and then Trevor was sitting up, a sudden movement that would have startled Aleks if he hadn’t been looking so closely at the boy’s face for some clues to his thoughts.

“Are you leaving?” Aleks asked, wincing when he moved to sit up as well, the previous ache now a full on hurt—not so pleasant anymore.

“Yeah. Brett wants us to be at the warehouse early tomorrow morning for one last briefing before we go in, remember?” Trevor said, putting his clothes on quickly, careful to avoid Aleks’ eyes as he did so. “Don’t want people asking questions, right?”

He finished putting his shoes back on and walked briskly to the door before stopping under the frame, almost as if he wanted to say more.

Aleks held his breath as he waited, staring at Trevor’s back, at what the light from the bedside lamp could illuminate. He didn’t know what he wanted Trevor to say, or do, but there was this small hope poking at the back of his mind, nearly making him reach out and pull Trevor back to the bed with him.

“See you at the warehouse,” Trevor said over his shoulder eventually, curt and sounding too much like static in Aleks’ head.

And then he was gone.

Aleks sat on the bed and counted the seconds once more. He counted until he heard his front door being slammed shut, then the sound of car engine turning on and getting quieter as Trevor drove further and further away from him.

He didn’t sleep that night; he wonders absently now if that was where the habit started, when he finally couldn’t take the stiff air of his room anymore and went to look for comfort in the bottles of alcohol he kept in his kitchen. He craved for a hit so desperately in that moment—his skin started to crawl and his arm began to ache; Aleks would lie if he say he didn’t miss so much the same bitter taste of the poisoned bliss he used to flood his bloodstream full of.

But then he thought of Trevor, of his lips pressed against Aleks’, of his hands on Aleks’ body, of how every time they fucked it felt like Aleks was transcended into another dimension with only bliss and ecstasy to his knowledge. No sort of drugs in this entire world could ever be parallel to that.

They didn’t stop after that time, not completely.

Trevor didn’t come over as often as he used to anymore, and Aleks couldn’t bear to ask without having his throat all choked up and miserable. What little time they spent alone together on Aleks’ bed—only Aleks’ bed now, no more fooling around in his or Trevor’s car, or the occasional make-out sessions in the warehouse bathroom (because rules were already broken, and they were too high on it to care)—felt too forced and awkward, even though the sex was still good.

Trevor didn’t stay to talk about random shit or a share joint with Aleks after sex anymore. They didn’t hang out after work as much as they used to, and it felt like how it did before, you know, when Aleks hadn’t gotten too drunk and messed up his life and his heart through one mistake right after another.

Some days, when he was feeling hopeful, he’d think about Trevor returning his… _feelings,_ and he’d get happy for a second or two, before having to gently talk sense into himself. He knew that could never be a reality, and it stung. Trevor was distant now, more than he ever did before, and it hurt Aleks so damn much every time Trevor didn’t stay over or bother to ask if the sex was good at all before leaving in a hurry.

There was so many times that Aleks wanted to say _no, stay, stay with me, stay for a bit, or forever, if you can, stay, please_ but there was no way to say that without sounding like a love sick puppy, exposing himself and ruining everything he’d worked so hard to keep.

His friends couldn’t know because that was the only rule they hadn’t broken, so Aleks couldn’t talk to anyone, or ask for advice, and that was on him. He kept his feelings for himself, losing sleep and developing a drinking habit that was beyond unhealthy, and he was smoking again because sometimes his hands would begin to shake, and he was craving for that _dangerous_ kick too often now.

Aleks looked at the calendar one day and realized it was months, after that very first time he woke up with a banging head and the sun too bright in his eyes, and never once thought he would develop feelings that his body would barely be able to contain. It had been killing him slowly ever since, the way his heart would beat quickly in his chest, or flutter when he caught sight of Trevor. He kept it hidden well, covering his bloodshot eyes with sunglasses and his exhaustion with his usual energetic facade, and no one really questioned it.

Not until tonight, anyway.

***

James is quiet as he listens to Aleks speaks, flaying his own chest open and showing his heart to the world, to the night and the closest friend he’s ever had. He keeps some details for himself; some because James wouldn’t appreciate to hear _that_ much about Aleks’ sex life, and some because they were his little secrets. Like how Trevor has a habit of talking in his sleep, saying random words and phrases that use to sound so gentle in Aleks’ ears, and how Trevor’s smile tasted so sweet when Aleks whispered ‘мой милый’ against his lips as they kissed.

There’s a half-empty glass of whiskey in Aleks’ hand now, replacing the cigarette he would have lit after the first one just to stop his hands from shaking too visibly. Aleks stares at it too much as James watches him through heavy eyes, which are packed full with concern and empty judgment for all the mistakes Aleks has made.

It’s nothing James hasn’t given him before; Aleks just wishes this was a different circumstance.

“Why didn’t you say anything?” James asks, when story time is over, and the empty air around them feels a little too heavy. “To Trevor, I mean.”

Aleks shrugs, eyes still caught in the amber liquid swirling around in his glass. “There was too much to lose, I guess,” he explains, bringing the glass up for a sip, feeling the alcohol burn up his throat, adding fuel to the flame around his heart. “He could’ve said no, and then what? Everything would be ruined.”

“Aleks,” James says after a few moments of silence, causing Aleks to look up at him, frowning a little in confusion. “Can I be brutally honest with you?”

Aleks can’t help it; he smiles. It’s small and it’s barely there, but it’s still a smile, the most genuine one that he's managed in days—weeks even.

“Sure, James,” he says, as the smile gets wider on his lips, knowing the storm to come but unable to find one bit of fear in his body. “Go ahead.”

James takes a breath, a deep breath and making it as dramatic as he can because what is James Richard Wilson without the sense for the dramas. Then, when the theatrics effects are over and done with, James stares at him dead in the eye, voice as clear as the night is lonely, and says, “You, Aleksandr, are a goddamn _moron._ ”

Now _this,_ this is the James that Aleks knows and loves, the one that Aleks has looked up to for so long, and the one he would protect to the end of this world.

The storm comes in full fold, wild and raging, as Aleks predicted, and he can only sit and take it, listening earnestly as James tells him _exactly_ what he thinks of Aleks. Partly, Aleks thinks he deserves, that this was a long time coming, but mostly, he just misses this, misses _them._

He misses the two of them hanging out and fucking shit up just for the hell of it; misses them having late night drinks like this and talking about what sort of bullshit is going on with the world at the moment. He misses a lot of his old life too, before his dumbass went and fell in love with someone who doesn’t return his feelings, who’s moved and found someone beautiful to be by his side.

Aleks has missed a lot, but they’re returning to him now, he thinks, with James screaming his heart out about how stupid Aleks has been, and the pain in Aleks’ chest settles, no longer hurting as it used to be. Yet, despite the progress being made, he doesn’t think any of these feelings will leave anytime soon.

James goes on for a while, as Aleks takes a subtle look around to make sure he hasn’t awoken Aleks’ neighbors with his tantrum. When James is done, he settles down the chair next to Aleks once again, reaching for his glass and downing the rest of his drink before setting it back on the table between them.

“You’re a fucking idiot,” he says again, breathing out of rhythm and looking a little red in the face as he stares at Aleks through thoughtful eyes.

James has been saying it every few sentences during his rant, and each time, including this one, it all means the same thing. It lets Aleks know how disappointed James is, in Aleks and his actions, in his tendency to carry heavy weights on his own, keeping his mouth shut until the very moment it all blows up in his face.

Suddenly, the shame and the guilt of it are too much, and Aleks ducks his head to look at his drink again, finger idly rubbing against the rim, eyes caught on the careless movement of brown liquid in the glass.

Aleks knows he should have said something, that he should have told James right when it first started, right from the very first time, but he’d been so scared of what James, his best friend, might that he didn’t. _Couldn’t._

“I know, dude,” he manages to reply, because he does know, and he does realize his own faults and mistakes.

James huffs once, rolling his eyes and shaking his head in disbelief. “What are you going to do now?”

Aleks shrugs, unsure of it himself.

“Nothing, I guess,” he says, looking up at the stars as if they could help him find a way out of this. “I mean, there’s not much I could do now, you know. He’s got a girl now, all happy and shit.What else can I do besides keeping this to myself and bringing it to the grave with me, huh?”

He tries hard not to think about how brightly Trevor has smiled at his girlfriend, how he hasn’t smiled like that at Aleks for a very long time now. It hurts, adding fuel to the undying flame around his heart.

“Are you going to try and be friends with him again?” James asks, and Aleks thinks about it, trying hard to come up with a good answer.

“I guess,” is what he settles for, and James sighs.

“You know that won’t happen, right?” he says, nonchalant, as if it’s just a passing thought rather than something that shakes Aleks’ entire being out of its axis. “Your friendship was ruined the moment you added the benefits, Aleks, there’s no way to salvage that. Especially with your feelings for him.”

Aleks stares at him, dumbfounded, because the thought never occurred to him before. He takes a moment and does what he’s been doing too much at night; he thinks. He thinks and he thinks and he thinks, and there’s no way to refute James’ point. Aleks was so naive as to think that they could have gone back to what they had before after things were done between them, after they’ve added the benefits. After Aleks went and fell in love, making himself miserable over it.

James sighs again, a defeated sound, and says, “I know we’re not the kind of friends to talk about mushy feelings and shit, but, uh,” he cuts off, clearing his throat, “I care about you a lot, you dumb shit. I don’t want to see you get hurt. And, uh— you deserve to be happy, despite whatever you might think.”

There’s a sting in Aleks’ eyes that he tries to hide away by taking the last sip of his whiskey, blaming it on the burn of alcohol instead of his dam of emotions finally overflowing.

Aleks’ fingers itch again, and this time, he doesn’t hesitate to place the empty glass he was holding down the table and reach for his cigarette pack, taking out one and lighting it up between his lips.

The nicotine helps sober him up for one short moment, where he can finally see clear again and feel the night air brushing against his skin without being overtaken by phantom feelings of touching a certain someone.

He looks at James, risking that short gaze to see the support in his eyes; the concern mixed with days-old exhaustion hidden well under the dark color of his irises. Aleks feels so fucking grateful for him.

Aleks is so grateful for James fucking Wilson, who’s sitting across from him at the late hour of the night to keep him company, to allow him a chance to pour his heart out without any harsh judgment. James, who is telling him that he doesn’t have to be alone in this, or in anything, and _fuck,_ his eyes are burning again.

“Thanks, dude,” he says, eventually, when the smoke fills up the air around them. It pushes away the emptiness and dreary feeling that had overtaken Aleks’ backyard ever since he returned home. “That means a lot.”

James nods, taking the bottle of whiskey and pouring them both another drink. The silence that settles over them now is a peaceful and serene sort of silence, and Aleks allows himself to breathe in the somber night air; to enjoy the somber night air without all the weights he’s been forced to carry until now. Now James is here with him, and that means Aleks will never have to carry those weights alone again.

When their glasses are empty once again, and Aleks’ cigarette is almost done, James speaks up again, but this time, the subject is no longer on the state of Aleks’ being and how he’s dealing with it. They talk about the things that don’t really matter all that much; things that happened at work while Aleks was too wrapped up in his head to notice, along with the bullshit that is happening in the world at the moment.

Aleks’ own heartache doesn’t seem to bother him anymore.

***

More than a month later, and Aleks can only wish he could say that he no longer feels anything for Trevor. No affection, no heartache, and no endless longing that seems to cling to his body like a plague.

Aleks wishes a lot of things, though, and he rarely gets what he wants. This time, it’s no different.

Days have passed, and his heart still aches when he catches Trevor’s eyes across the room, and the boy sends him a gentle smile. It’s the same one that Aleks adores so damn much, and it reminds him of the flame still burning low but steady around his heart. The fire flares to life when Aleks scrolls through his Snapchat stories and can find Trevor in so many of them, pressing up against his new girlfriend.

They look happy; _perfect._ A match made in heaven, some might say.

Weeks have gone by, and there are still nights where Aleks lies awake, smoking his cigarettes and drinking too much alcohol. His brain likes to remind him of everything he’s lost, and of all the things he couldn’t have, and what his heart won’t ever cease to feel.

He knows the last part isn’t true, that he will get over this someday. James even said so himself, that this feeling that Aleks has— _this infatuation, this intense attraction,_ whatever name Aleks’ brain has for it—would eventually dissipate, fading into the air above him like the smoke from his cigarette. Yet at night, when Aleks’ mood can’t help but match the nights, and the air is stiff and cold and too damn lonely, it feels like Aleks will never— _can never_ —stop loving Trevor.

Aleks misses him; it’s a random thought that catches up to him when he’s got too much time to himself, knocking him off his balance and adding more fuel to the fire around his heart.

He won’t admit it out loud to anyone, especially to James, but it’s the truth; there’s no denying it. It hasn’t occurred to him until now how much time they spend together outside of sex, when they’re nothing more than casual coworkers who only see each at work.

Don’t get him wrong, he misses the sex, too, and sometimes finds himself craving for it. It’s just not the same with the random strangers Aleks finds himself going home with late at night. He misses the sex, sure, but that’s not only it.

He misses what came before and after the sex too—the things that lead to it, and the comfortable atmosphere that followed after.

In other words, he misses _Trevor._

Aleks misses hanging out after work with him. He misses all the times he’d call Trevor up, asking him to come over, and Trevor would accept in a heartbeat. Aleks misses playing video games with him; the way they’d drink a beer, or two, getting pleasantly tipsy, and Aleks would lose, sure, but he’d try to cheat by kissing Trevor, and Trevor would give in, and then they’d have sex.

He misses them lounging on Aleks’ bed after, sharing a joint, and when the high would hit, and Trevor would hide a giggle into the crook of Aleks’ neck. Aleks misses the way Trevor would lick and bite gently at the skin there, the way he would slowly, tentatively kiss his way up to Aleks’ lips.

He misses the conversations they’d have when Trevor would pull away, too high to do anything.

They said they’d try to be friends again, or at least, Trevor did. He suggested it in the text to Aleks that night; _‘I hope we can still be friends.’_

Despite what James said, Aleks is still a fool and hopelessly in love enough to believe in those words.

Time seems to be against them, though, because the longer it goes on, the more strained their relationship becomes. It’s distant, and they feel too much like strangers—only a passing acquaintance that they’d say hi to on the street and then be on their way without thinking too much of the encounter.

Aleks half wishes that was the truth, but it, once again, is one of those wishes that get lost into the void of the Earth, because Aleks knows Trevor too well, now, for them to be less than what they are. He knows the lines of Trevor’s skin, the edges of his features, the spots where he most likes to be kissed. He knows too much of things he can never have again.

He misses Trevor too much, and nowadays, it seems every little thing he does reminds him of the boy.

These days, he isn’t at home much; there’s too many things that Trevor has touched, the smell of him still lingering around the empty spaces of Aleks’ bedroom, and it hurts to be around it all. During the day, he finds himself at the warehouse, trying to keep busy. There’s nothing much to be done because they’re between jobs at the moment, but it gives him an excuse to be away from his own home.

He doesn’t leave until Brett yells at him, or when James gives a look, so full of concern that he almost doesn’t look like himself.

At night, Aleks goes to nightclubs or a dinky bar somewhere where no one would recognize him if they don’t look too closely, and he’d follow the first girl or guy who’s interested in him back to their place. Some unlucky nights lead him to James’ house, or he’d call and James would come and pick him up, that concerned look on his face again but he doesn’t try to lecture Aleks—he must have guessed that it’s futile at this point.

The next day would have Aleks sitting at breakfast with James, chatting away as they both pretend last night didn’t happen the way it did; that Aleks didn’t get too drunk and call James up because he was too miserable, and James was the only one who knew.

Some other nights, James would take him out to a vacant place, where they could shoot their guns at empty beer bottles and scream until their lungs hurt from the force of it. Those nights are Aleks’ favorite; they make him grateful that they’re not the kind of friends to talk about feelings, and emotions, and all that mushy shit.

Those nights, Aleks is grateful that they’d get into fights instead, going out and breaking things just for shits and giggles, and they’d fight and break and kick and destroy until their knuckles and muscles hurt more than their own heart.

People like to say that love is the most wonderful thing you can achieve in life. It brings you joy and happiness like nothing else, and Aleks used to think—quite innocently, when the world hadn’t broken him down with its sharp teeth and angry fists—that he’d fall in love some day. That he’d find a beautiful girl and quit this lifestyle for her, and they’d get married, find a house somewhere quiet and peaceful, and be happy forever.

That used to be the dream. But love, as Aleks has found out, is a bad, bad thing. It’s a horrible torture of endless thoughts of a certain someone haunting every dark corner of your mind, giving you heartburn and a dizzy mind just at the sight their smile alone. Being in love is misery, despair and complete agony, but it’s still nothing compared to being in love—being so very much in love—and not having that love returned to you.

But he will get over it someday, eventually, Aleks tells himself. James has told him the same thing on multiple occasions when Aleks searches for comfort on the bed in James’ guestroom. He’ll get over it, and it all will be fine, once again, like it used to be.

*******

“We need more girls in the gang, guys,” Lindsey complains, wistfully dropping her head on Aleks’ shoulder. Aleks only smiles, watching the crowd of people ahead of them, all too drunk to even think straight anymore.

It’s Lindsey’s birthday today, and it’s odd, kind of, how fast time goes by when you’re not paying attention to it. Aleks remembers blinking, for what he could swear was only one second, and the next thing he knows, the year is ending, and Lindsey’s birthday is drawing to a close.

She announced to them a week earlier, to allow them time to clear their schedule, and she had smiled so bright that day. Bright enough that it could almost outshine the fluorescent lights hanging high on their warehouse ceiling as she said how she wanted to hold the party at one of her nightclubs, and make it as big as the building could sustain.

Aleks almost turned her down, the words already forming at the back of his throat, because there was this headache banging at both sides of his temples that just refused to go away despite the painkillers James had given him earlier that morning, along with reasons involving someone whose name he was trying to forget. Lindsey kept on smiling, though, that bright smile of hers, and Aleks didn’t have the heart to ruin the fun for her, so he just smiled back, wishing her an early happy birthday before going back to work.

So here he is now, one week later, sitting on one of the couches in the VIP area of the second hottest nightclub in town with the owner sitting besides him, leaning too much against him as all the shots she’s done earlier with Brett start to catch up with her. James is here with them too, sitting by himself on an armchair next to theirs and watching the crowd with a half-amused expression.

“We got you,” he replies, loud enough so it can be heard over the music playing so loudly from the speakers hanging at every corner of the nightclub. Lindsey hums from where she is, the sound vibrating through her cheek and down Aleks’ shoulder. “That should be enough.”

“No, dude,” Lindsey drawls, somehow sounding more drunk than she did just seconds ago. “I want to have some girlfriends to hang with, to talk about boys and clothes and whatever. It’s lonely being the only girl in the crew.”

She’s pouting, Aleks can tell without looking, and he can’t help but smile, understanding her sentiment, in a way. It’s almost like how he is with James, as Aleks almost wishes that he can tell more people about his feelings, about the hidden things he’s kept to his best friends all these months, and to himself even longer than that.

“Don’t you have friends outside of our crew?” Aleks asks, turning his head slightly so he can look down at her.

“It’s not the same, Aleks,” she says, looking up at him from beneath her lashes. “I can’t talk to them about all the bullshit you boys put me through.”

“Well, you can talk to me,” Aleks tells her, leaning his cheek on the top of her head as a form of comfort. “If you want.”

James, on his part, only rolls his eyes at the both of them before turning back to look at the crowd below the balcony where the VIP area is located, his eyes shifting ever so slightly before setting on something certain—something that Aleks can’t see from his position. There’s a change in James’ expression, one that Aleks knows too well after too many years being friend with the guy, and he isn’t surprised when James stands from his seat, adjusting his jacket and brushing off the invisible dust on the arms and shoulders.

“I’m going to get us more drinks,” he announces, giving them a particular look before leaving without waiting for an acknowledgement from either Aleks or Lindsey.

Aleks’ eyes trace his back while Lindsey mumbles something incoherent in the fabric of Aleks’ jacket. He watches until James disappears into the crowd of drunken people outside the VIP area, swallowing up and out of existence as Aleks can see. Aleks, for the most part, wishes his friend luck on whatever he’s going for, but for the rest, Aleks wishes James has stayed instead.

It’s suddenly too quiet now with just Lindsey and him sitting on the long couch despite the loud music, the chattering from people nearby, and the cheering and whooping from the DJ as she hypes everyone up.

“Are you okay, Aleks?” Lindsey asks him, after a long stretch of stillness between them. It’s so sudden that Aleks is sort of startled by it, his heart quickening in his chest as he looks down at Lindsey, trying to pry her thoughts from what he can see on her face. But her expression is passive, neutral, void of anything meaningful that Aleks can read.

“Of course I’m okay,” he replies, trying for a smile and hoping that it doesn’t look like he’s hiding something even though he is; even though his eyes shield too much sorrow than his body can hold.

Lindsey says nothing, and the moment stretches out almost too long and too suffocating as she raises her head from where it was resting on Aleks’ shoulder so she can look at him. She’s drunk, Aleks knows this, has been watching her take shots after shots before retreating up here, and it certainly didn’t help that she downed so many of the colorful drinks that James had ordered for them.

Despite her lack of sobriety, there’s this shadow over her eyes that tells Aleks that she doesn’t believe him, not in the slightest. To Aleks’ relief, though, she doesn’t press on.

Instead, she sighs, drawn out and tired all of a sudden. She gives him a smile, a serene sort of smile, before standing up from where she’s been sitting besides him.

“I think I’ll join everyone on the dance floor. Come with me?” she offers, extending a hand to him as she gives him an expectant look.

Aleks wants to say yes; he wants to take her hand, stand up and walk with her to the dance floor below so they can both lose themselves to the music playing too loud overhead. But he’s still not drunk enough, and there’s a certain someone downstairs that Aleks’ not-yet-drunk-enough mind is still hooked on, and he can’t even bear to think of the sight of Trevor being happy with his girlfriend.

“I think I’m going to wait for James, get some more alcohol in me, and then I’ll join you, okay?” he promises, smiling a smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes, and Lindsey, even as drunk as she is, must see straight through it, but she only smiles again, nodding.

It seems to be enough for her, bending down slightly to give him a kiss on the cheek, a warm kiss that’s almost enough to warm his numbing heart, before walking on unsteady feet into the crowd like James just did moments ago.

Aleks knows his best friend won’t be back anytime soon, if he’s read the man right, and still, he waits. He waits, and waits, and waits, and he would have waited some more, but his hands are starting to shake; his legs are bouncing too quickly and out of rhythm, and his entire body is buzzing with energy he should be burning down on the dance floor with his crew.

 _Why am I so miserable?_ Aleks asks himself, but he gets no answer back, unsurprisingly, before standing from his seat. He’s sick of just sitting there and feeling sorry for himself. He needs a cigarette, he thinks, walking out of the VIP area and closer to the railing, taking a look down at the people below.

His eyes settle on the bar, where James has said he’d go to all those moments ago, and it doesn’t take Aleks long to find his best friend, with his unmistakable bun of curly hair and that blond streak that he hasn’t been able to grow out of.

James is talking to someone—a girl, a beautiful girl with a gorgeous smile on her lips as she tells him a story, and James’ eyes are bright; even from where Aleks is standing, he can still see it. He can see the way James leans too much into her, watching her as she talks wildly with her hands and lips.

It’s sweet, Aleks thinks, smiling an encouraging smile though his friend can’t see—won’t see, with how he’s so focused on the woman in front of him—and Aleks chooses that moment to leave, finally.

He makes his way through the horde of people, some smiling at him, and others giving him appreciative looks as he passes by, though he pays them no mind. He goes straight to the back door, and the guards let him through without much trouble—a perk of being friends with the owner.

The chilly air of the night outside provides Aleks some solace, clearing his mind and sobering him up. He takes a deep breath, head tilted back to stare up the moonless sky above, with sprinkles of stars here and there. Though none are twinkling down on him now, none are offering him the comfort he feels himself craving so much all of a sudden.

He takes out his cigarette pack, almost empty again, it looks like, and takes a mental note to buy a new pack tomorrow as he puts one cigarette on his lips and lights it up. It’s bitter, harsh and hot, burning its way down his throat like the alcohol he drank earlier, and he revels in the burn of it, closing his eyes as he breathes the smoke out.

“I thought you quit,” a voice comes from behind him, and Aleks almost jumps right out of his skin as he turns around and faces his company.

It’s the last person Aleks wants to see right now, and Aleks stares at him. At Trevor, who is leaning against the wall next to the nightclub’s back door, staring back at him with passive eyes and both hands hidden in the pockets of his jeans jacket.

Aleks almost wants to run, to go somewhere else so he can return to the peace he came out here looking for. Nobody else was supposed to be here, but despite this, his hands are steady, thanks to the smoke, and his head is clear, and he should be able to deal with this.

James would be proud to know that Aleks only shrugs, taking tentative step towards Trevor to lean against the wall besides him as he takes another drag from his cigarette—which James wouldn’t be proud of—and says, “I did.”

Trevor says nothing then, only raises an eyebrow at Aleks as he watches him inhale the smoke, holding it in for one second too long before exhaling it out.

The silence between them now is… strange, to say the least. It doesn’t make Aleks’ skin crawl, like it’s not right for him or like there’s something inside him that wants to be set free to take hold of his entire being. Yet, it does nothing to slow the quickening speed of Aleks’ beating heart, to dull the fire that’s currently burning so bright there.

Aleks has nothing to say though, so he focuses on smoking his cigarette as Trevor tilts his head to the sky, seemingly deep in thoughts as his eyes are caught at the distant stars above. Aleks sneaks a glance at him, because he misses Trevor, and because it’s been so long since he’s gotten to be this close to him in a situation where they’re not trying too hard to offer each other promises that neither of them will keep.

From this angle, Aleks can see the sharp edge of Trevor’s jaw, the pale line of his throat, the hair falling around his face, and all the dots of moles that Aleks has once peppered kisses onto. It hurts—a dull sort of hurt—that Aleks can have Trevor this close to him, but can’t reach out his hand and touch, and pull Trevor close to his body so he can once again get used to the smell of him.

“Where’s your girlfriend? Did you abandon her to come out here all alone?” Aleks forces himself to ask, pushing away all the thoughts, all the wishes that have never done him any good; it only instills in him the kind of false hope that will too soon be crushed by cruel reality.

Trevor doesn’t answer immediately, moving his eyes away from the night sky too far up above and turning his head sideways to look at Aleks, watching him with dark eyes that Aleks doesn’t want to look into for too long.

There’s a short moment of silence, where Trevor shifts his gaze to the ground and sighs, scuffing the toe of his shoes on the concrete beneath. “We broke up,” he says, his voice solemn and weary.

“Oh,” Aleks replies, a quiet sound just to fills in the silence that comes after. He doesn’t know how to feel about that information; he isn’t happy, he knows that much, not with how Trevor’s eyes are too clouded, the circles under them suddenly become so apparent, and the exhaustion makes themselves known through the shift in Trevor’s shoulders.

“I’m sorry, Trevor,” Aleks says after a beat, and Trevor hums.

“Yeah,” he mutters, leaning his head back to face the night sky again, the stars seem to be able to hold his attention longer than anything else around them. “Me too.”

Aleks mirrors Trevor’s motion and shifts his head so he can stare up the dark sky as well, an infinite canvas dotted by burning stars that are so far out of reach. He smokes his cigarette, and when he breathes the smoke out, it flows up and up and up, and disappears into nothingness; the air feels so sluggish all of a sudden, and it makes Aleks think.

He thinks about all the things he still feels for Trevor, all the things he’s been wishing and hoping for, and how useless and impossible they all are. He thinks about nothing and then everything, and it feels too much and not enough all at once, and it makes him drop his cigarette to the ground, stomping it out under his shoes.

“You wanna get out of here?” he asks, looking at Trevor with an expectant look that Lindsey had given him earlier. Trevor looks at him then, quirking an eyebrow in question. “C’mon, you don’t look like you want to get back in there,” Aleks jabs a thumb at door next to them, “and what? You’re planning to stand out here all night?”

“Wouldn’t James mind?” Trevor asks, and Aleks frowns at him, confused.

“Why would he?”

Trevor only shrugs, pushing himself off the wall with hands still hidden deep inside the pockets of his jacket. “It seems you guys are inseparable nowadays. Thought he’d worry if you’re not around.”

Aleks laughs, and the sound clears up the strange feeling that’s clung to the empty spaces around and between them ever since Aleks found out he wasn’t alone out here.

“I think he’s fine without having me around for tonight,” Aleks says, an earnest smile catching on his lips as he thinks back to the way James had looked as he listened to that girl inside the bar talk. “In fact, you know what, I think he’s pretty sick of seeing my face all the time at this point.”

That pulls a chuckle out of Trevor, who’s ducking his head down for just a split second before looking back up again, the weariness from before is starting to fade from his face.

“Where should we go?” he asks.

“I don’t know. You pick.” Aleks digs his car key from his pants pocket and throws them at Trevor, who catches it gracefully, which means he must be less drunk than Aleks and more capable of driving them without the risk of crashing.

Aleks spends most of the drive looking out the window, though he’s not really paying attention to where Trevor is taking them. His mind is pleasantly blank, for once, with the nicotine and residual alcohol from much earlier a good mix inside his bloodstream. He feels drowsy, as the view passes in a blur outside the glass window, all those sleepless nights finally catch up with him.

He must have dozed off at some point, because one moment they’re driving down a dark, empty road with only streetlights and the stars above as their companions, and the next, Trevor is shaking him awake, a gentle hand on his shoulder and a soft voice telling him, “We’re here.”

Aleks blinks a few times, his vision blurred a few seconds too long before it focuses again, on a place Aleks has known for so long, to the city beneath them, shining brighter than the stars scattered across the night sky.

He follows Trevor out of the car, trying hard not to think too much of Trevor’ decision to bring them here out of anywhere else in this city. A part of Aleks had hoped Trevor would have taken him home, offering to put Aleks to bed (and maybe stay because he was tired too), but as deep as he’s fallen for Trevor, he’s still not that delusional, so the thought was pushed aside as soon as it appeared; thrown carelessly in an overflowed box of things he should never think about.

This place was their spot, back when. It was Aleks’ spot first, actually, before he showed it to Trevor, and then it became theirs, and the memory of their first time here is still too clear in Aleks’ head.

He remembers the amazed look on Trevor’s face when Aleks pulled to a stop on this exact cliff edge, overlooking the city below that was still so alive despite the late hour of the night. They’d stolen a truck before that, because Aleks was in the mood for something reckless that could get them yelled at later.

They’d had sex in the trunk— _parking,_ Trevor had told him later, when they were clothed once again, giggling the words into the corner of Aleks’ lips as they’d settled on the hood of the truck, watching the purple clouds flow so lazily on the night sky.

Looking back on it now, Aleks thinks that night could have been the very first moment he started to fall for Trevor, even though he didn’t know it at the time. The memory is still so vibrant in his head, more now than ever, despite the alcohol and the time that has passed. He remembers Trevor looking so pretty under the pale moonlight, eyes shining along with the stars as he pointed them out for Aleks, naming them after forgotten gods that Aleks’ mind scrambled to keep up with.

Aleks watched him, and there might have been a moment where his heart skipped, but he was too high on it in the moment—high on the sex they’d just had, high on the thrill of a crime gotten away with, high on the way Trevor looked so _beautiful_ —to really pay attention.

 _Beautiful_ ; it’s not a word he’d typically use to describe a boy. It’s what he’d say to Anna, before she left to find solitude in the small town she grew up in, to be with her family. It’s what he’d call Lindsey, whenever she was mad at him, curling the word on his tongue just to see the smile pulling at the corners of her lips, unable to hold onto her anger for too long. It’s what he’d call the girls he’d find at a bar, whispering it into the crook of their neck as they’re spread out all _beautiful_ on his bed.

It’s not what he should call a boy, his father has told him once, looking at him with hateful eyes that Aleks could never find the reason behind. He’s grown up thinking that; that boys can’t be beautiful because the word wasn’t fitting for any of the boys he’s met.

Trevor, though, who’s made Aleks break every limit he’s got, who’s shown him that love was something he is capable of after all, is _beautiful._ He’s beautiful, and Aleks can’t deny it; he can’t deny the lines of his face that Aleks had mapped with his fingers once upon a time when they were high and naked on Aleks’ bed.

He’s beautiful, in the way he smiles, the way he mumbles unknown words in his sleep, the way he’s wrapped around Aleks’ body so perfectly, and he’s so beautiful, but he’s not Aleks’. He will never be, and Aleks feels like Spiderman, with all these cobwebs spelling out Trevor’s name hanging in every dark corner of his mind.

Aleks sighs, shaking his head in some vague hope of clearing all the bad thoughts away as he steps out of the passenger seat and to the hood of his car where Trevor’s leaning against.

“This place is really beautiful at night, huh?” Aleks says, staring out at the city as he settles himself besides Trevor. He crosses his arms, leaving enough space between them as to not allow himself an excuse to do something inadvisable, like leaning too much on Trevor and saying all the things he wishes he could.

“I prefer it at sunset, actually,” Trevor replies.

Aleks starts, turning his head slightly to watch the way Trevor’s staring out at the city ahead. Aleks has only taken him here at night, that one time and many times after that, and he can’t help but wonder when Trevor has come back here at sunset, and whether he was alone or with someone else. Someone like his girlfriend, maybe.

“Why did you two break up?” Aleks asks out of the blue, one quiet moment later, because he’s thinking too much again, and the conversation should help him evade that.

Trevor looks at him in his peripheral vision, shrugging. “She wasn’t right for me, I guess. Or maybe I wasn’t right for her.”

“Well, there’s still a lot of fish in the sea, dude,” Aleks offers, giving Trevor what he hopes is a comforting look. He’s never read the book on comforting people, and he doesn’t think there’s a book out there to help you comfort the guy you’re in love with after he broke up with his girlfriend.

“Yeah,” Trevor says, and it sounds so dreary and defeated as he looks back to the city, his face a mask of emotions that Aleks has never been good at deciphering.

He wishes he could now, just so for once he could know what was going through Trevor’s head. So he would know if thoughts of him ever crossed through Trevor’s mind, and if it did as much as thoughts of Trevor infested every one of Aleks’ thoughts.

“You know, if you’re still stuck on her, you should try and get her back,” Aleks says, his heart clawing at his chest in an attempt to make him stop. It isn’t what Aleks wants to happen, but Trevor had been happy with her, and if he’s happy then Aleks is happy and all that shit. Aleks has never been a selfish person and it’s no point to start now when Trevor can never even be his.

Trevor scoffs, a cynical sound that cuts through the air like a sharp knife, giving Aleks more of an excuse to stare at him too intently.

“It’s not her that I want,” Trevor says, wistful, and Aleks still fails at putting a name to the emotions rushing over his face. “It was fun while it lasted, yeah, but we weren’t right for each other. I’m just— stuck on a guy who doesn’t want me back.”

 _That_ makes Aleks pause; he wants to ask or at least say something to evade the bright flame in his heart that is flaring up once again and burning brighter than the surface of the sun. Yet all he can do is stare. He stares and stares, and Trevor’s emotions are so well hidden, shielded away under dark eyes that reflect the bright city in front of them, and Aleks can see nothing.

The weather tonight is cool—not to the point of freezing, and nothing one added layer of Aleks’ jacket can’t protect him from. And despite the fire making shelter around his heart, Aleks still feels so numb, now, so numb and hollow and empty.

It was bad enough to realize that Trevor didn’t feel the same way about him, that he’d gone out and found himself someone to be with. Someone who was nice and beautiful and as far from what Aleks was as they could be. It’s even worse now that Trevor is not only not in love with him, but he’s in love with someone else, and seems to have been stuck on that guy for a while now.

Aleks wonders if Trevor continued things between them just because it helped him forget about the one he couldn’t be with; all the while Aleks was doing so just to be with the guy he could never have.

Ironic, Aleks thinks, how things have turned out between them. It’s life, he knows. Harsh, cruel life that never fails to show its true nature to Aleks, especially when he’s broken enough to believe it’s the only truth.

The silence between them slowly becomes too much, stretched out for miles and miles. Just as Aleks wants to fill it up with something, some random topic about this world or the next, Trevor’s phone rings, and he takes it from his pocket and moves away to answer it.

Aleks doesn’t like that; he doesn’t like the empty space between them that suddenly becomes greater, along with the silence save for Trevor’s muffled respond to whoever is on the other side of the phone. It all gives Aleks too much room for his thoughts to conquer, for his mind to devour him with things he’s been thinking about for far too long, and some more that he won’t ever stop thinking about.

Trevor returns after a while, to where he was standing next to Aleks, holding his phone in his hand still, eyes caught on it as he shifts idly it around in his palm.

“Who was that?” Aleks asks, just to have something to battle the silence.

“Jakob,” Trevor responds. “He wanted to know where I went.”

“And you told him you’re here with me?”

“Nah,” Trevor says, shaking his head slightly, looking at Aleks once again in his peripheral vision. “Told him I went home ‘cause the party was getting to loud for my liking.”

“Oh,” Aleks says, frowning. “Why’d you lie?”

Trevor looks down the ground, his phone put away and his hands once again left in the pockets of his jeans jacket as he kicks the dirt with his shoe.

“He’d get worried if he knew I was out here with you,” he whispers, and it’s so small and indistinct that it almost seems like it wasn’t meant for Aleks to hear.

He still hears it, though, and he opens his mouth to ask what Trevor was talking about, but before he can even get the words out of his mouth, Trevor is cutting in, “Can I ask you a question, Aleks?”

The question is as sudden as Lindsey’s was earlier back in the bar—back when Aleks hadn’t made the stupid decision of escaping the excitement inside to look for solitude outside—and like before, he’s startled by it, taken aback as he watches the shift in Trevor’s expression.

“You have to be honest with me,” Trevor continues, sighing as he looks up, watching Aleks from beneath his long eyelashes. “Be honest even if it’s hurtful and not what I want it to be. Just— don’t lie, okay?”

Aleks doesn’t know how to respond—doesn’t even know how to feel right now. He’s so lost in the blankness behind Trevor’s eyes, the endlessness of something dark and sorrowful that Aleks can’t name but has recognized in himself so many times.

“Okay,” he finds himself saying, because it seems to be what expected of him.

Trevor pushes himself off the car, shifting his body so he’s facing Aleks fully. The height difference between them causes Trevor to look down at Aleks and makes the shadow over his eyes seems vast, too infinite and too damn dark that Aleks almost can’t bear to look at him.

“Did it mean anything to you?” Trevor asks, not allowing a moment for the silence between them to extend out for too long. “When we were— when we were fucking, did it mean anything to you?”

The question is instantaneous, but it seems to take an eternity for it to reach Aleks’ ear. It takes longer for him to process it and to understand what Trevor is asking of him. It takes this lifetime and also the next before Aleks can will himself to just open his mouth and say… _something_ —just something so that they’re not just staring at each other, so Aleks isn’t dwelling on this one simple thought that will end up swallowing him whole.

“Trevor—” he starts, but he doesn’t get the chance to finish whatever his brain was going to come up with before Trevor is cutting in once again, his eyes unblinking as his lips utters, “It’s you.”

“It’s you, you know,” he says again, clearer this time, and his face is packed so full with emotions that Aleks isn’t used to. It freezes him still where he’s standing, eyes caught on Trevor’s as he continues with , “It’s you that I’m stuck on.

“I wasn’t going to say anything, wasn’t planning to ‘cause I thought it’d make things awkward between us,” Trevor presses, caught up in this monologue without offering Aleks a chance to keep up. “But things have already been awkward between us, and I’ve been carrying this torch for you for so long now, all I want is a chance to say it out loud to someone who isn’t myself or my best friend.”

When Trevor is done, the air around them is too quiet again, frozen in time and space where too much of everything rushing through Aleks’ head, making his mind spin and his vision blurry. He’s rendered speechless now, unable to utter a word because he doesn’t know what to say right now. All the _yes, Trevor, yes, I’m stuck on you too, yes_ and the _why didn’t you say anything? Did you only realize it when you were with someone else?_

Aleks keeps his body still, so still that he doesn’t think he’s breathing right now, and Trevor hasn’t stopped watching him, searching for a certain something on Aleks’ face that Aleks doesn’t know if he himself is showing. The search seems to come up empty, though, because Trevor sighs once, the sound rings loud and sounds so defeated in Aleks’ ear.

Aleks doesn’t even have the time to react to it or to try and express that _something_ that Trevor was looking for, because Trevor is turning away.

He’s moving away from Aleks, one slow first step followed by more purposeful ones, moving right out of Aleks’ reach and back to the driver side of Aleks’ car. He’s mumbling about how it’s late now, that they should go back to their own houses, but it all sounds so muted in Aleks’ head.

He watches as Trevor puts a hand on the handle and opens the door, the clicking of the lock disengaging is enough to pull Aleks’ out of his momentary stupor so he can call out Trevor’s name to stop him.

Trevor still has his hand on the handle of the door as he gives Aleks a look, so weighted and forlorn that Aleks feels his heart drop, feels the flame flare, and says, “Don’t worry, Aleks. I won’t act on it or anything. You and James seem happy together, and you know, your happiness is my happiness and all that.”

This time around, what Trevor just said settles quicker in Aleks’ mind, and he makes himself say without thinking too much of it, “I’m not with James.” Trevor only frowns in confusion, and Aleks elaborates, “We were never together, Trevor. James and I are only friends. Best friends, yeah, but just that.”

Trevor looks stunned, frozen in place as Aleks has just been moments ago during Trevor’s speech. Aleks looks at him, watching him with hopeful eyes that he didn’t imagine what just happened, and he can’t help the smile pulling at the corner of his lips.

“You wanna know something, Trevor?” he asks, and it takes a moment before Trevor musters up a _‘yeah’,_ and Aleks smiles wider, taking a tentative step towards him. “I’m stuck too, you know.” And another step. “I’m stuck on this guy who I thought didn’t want me back.” And another, then another. “I just found out I was wrong.” And one more, and he’s standing right in front of Trevor, only a breath away, and Aleks can reach out now, reach out and touch Trevor and pull him into his arms and keep him there where they can be together forever.

Aleks would berate himself and try to grind his teeth, pulling out his cigarette pack for another smoke to stop the tremble he’d find in his movement, but he’s not going to do that this time around because he doesn’t have to.

“Trevor,” Aleks calls again, staring up at Trevor like he holds the stars and can see the way Trevor looks back at him like he’s hung the moon. “Can I kiss you?”

The question comes out small, soft, and so full of affection that Aleks doesn’t bother hiding anymore. Trevor smiles, the same gentle smile that Aleks has missed so damn much, and it’s so bright that it could give the burning stars above a run for their money.

“Yeah,” Trevor breathes, barely a whisper but it still shakes Aleks to the very core as he closes what little space left between them, and presses their lips together.

It’s a soft kiss, so gentle and innocent, chaste and wonderful, and it takes all of Aleks’ breath away. It pulls the oxygen from his lungs like nothing else ever could, and he’s in love, he reminds himself, he’s in love, and his love is returned now, and no feelings in this world—no drugs, no alcohol, no meaningless sex with random strangers in bars—could ever compare to it.

***

“I think I started falling for you the first time I brought you here,” Aleks tells Trevor some moments later, when they’re settled on the hood of Aleks’ car, lying back against the glass window as they’re both too high now. High on new hope, on feelings returned, on a love no longer hidden deep inside their bones.

They would have left and gone back to Aleks’ place or maybe somewhere else if Trevor was in the mood, but neither of them were. There’s no rush to leave this place, while it’s so stunning—the city buzzing with life as if to match how Aleks is feeling, the sky an infinite canvas with sprinkles of stars shining so bright as if to match how Trevor is smiling at him.

“I think I did too,” Trevor replies, and Aleks is so sure he’s never smiled so much all in one night in his entire life.

“Yeah? I mean, I can’t blame you. I was pretty badass that night. I mean, stealing that truck, in front of all those people—”

“That wasn’t the first time you brought me here,” Trevor interrupts, giving him an amused look while Aleks stares back incredulously. “You really don’t remember?”

“No?”

Trevor chuckles, shifting his eyes back to the view ahead. He’s got his arms pillowed under his head, that gentle smile on his face with eyes half-open as he enjoys the scenery. “It’s okay. You were pretty out of it that day, busy with this new gang you just started with your best friend. I'm not really surprised that you don’t remember it.”

Aleks watches him for a moment, counting all the changes in his face that Aleks can account for ever since he went outside of the nightclub in search for serenity and found Trevor instead. He watches the features on Trevor’s face, the way his eyes shine brighter and more sincere as he lies beside Aleks; the way his smile is gentle once again and less cynical, so relaxed despite the exhaustion resting in the edges of his body.

“Tell me about it, then,” Aleks commands, shifting his body so he can be just _that_ much closer to Trevor, because he’s allowed to be now and because his heart demands it of him, and he can no longer find a reason in this entire world not to obey.

Trevor glances at him, quirking up an eyebrow as his face fills with so much adoration that Aleks can almost feel himself blush. He feels like a teenager with his first love beside him, like he’s on top of the world and as though the stars aren’t so distant anymore.

Those things might as well be true, because Trevor is the first person Aleks has ever felt something this intense for, and the city shines and buzzes with energy despite the late hour of the night underneath their feet. The stars above twinkle down at them—a sort of comfort that Aleks no longer needs—and Aleks watches them, wondering if he were to reach out a hand, would one fall into his callous palm as if it belonged there.

“It was a long time ago,” Trevor begins, pulling Aleks out of his daze as he turns his head so he can watch the way those quiet words escape Trevor’s kiss-ruined lips. “I was new to town, and you were tasked with showing me around. I knew you didn’t want to, with how you kept this frown on your face the whole time you had to drive me around to show me all the important places that I needed to keep in mind.”

Aleks closes his eyes for one short moment, conjuring up the images of Fake Chop in its first days of life, of the air infested with a hectic energy that had settled deep, just as Aleks realized how much work it was to start a new crew in Los Santos.

Memories of the day Trevor is talking about don’t come up easy, but Aleks can still imagine it in his head, and it starts to become clearer and clearer as Trevor goes on.

“When everything was done with, you didn’t take me back to the warehouse right away. You said you didn’t want to, that Brett had practically given some time off and you were going to make the most out of it. You asked if I wanted to go someplace cool, and the look in your eyes, man... so sincere and earnest, and even though you must have been exhausted from all the shit that was going on at the time, your smile still shined so bright. I was already half falling for you at that point.”

Trevor sighs then, a wistful sound as he recalls the memories. “Then you took me here, when the sun was nearly setting, and we sat on the hood of your car like we’re doing right now. You pointed at the city below us, at the skyscrapers, at the street corners, and you told me all the stories about them. Each and every one of them.”

Trevor turns to look at Aleks then. Their eyes meet, and Aleks feels his breath become stuck in his throat, his heart beating wild and out of rhythm in his chest, all because of the naked affection he finds in Trevor’s eyes.

“You were so into it,” Trevor continues, his voice is a floodgate for all those affection from his eyes to bleed through, completely overtaken by it. “You went on and on, and the sun was setting on the horizon, and—” he pauses, making sure he has all of Aleks’ attention under his gaze, “it was the most beautiful sight I’ve ever seen.”

Maybe James was right, Aleks muses to himself. His best friend was right when he said that the friendship that Aleks and Trevor used to have was ruined, completely destroyed by what they’d become with no chance of getting it back, ever. Right now, though, Aleks can’t find enough energy to care about that, as he leans in and presses one more kiss to Trevor’s lips, as Trevor moves a hand from under his head to pull Aleks in closer.

This kiss is unlike their first one of tonight. This one is deep, breathless, as Aleks takes all the time in this world to explore—or _re-_ explore—all the curves and dips of Trevor’s mouth, all the sounds he’d make when Aleks kisses him right, when Aleks puts a hand on his hip and rubs small circles into the exposed skin between his shirt and his pants.

When Aleks pulls away first, finally succumbs to his biology and its need for air, Trevor still has his eyes closed, and Aleks can’t help but ask, “What’s wrong?”

Trevor cracks open one eye, just a small bit of it, to look back Aleks. “Will you still be there if I open my eyes? Is this really all real?”

Aleks’ heart, the cheesy bastard, swells. The fire circling around it subsided a while ago; with no more self-doubt and hidden emotions to add fuel into, it burnt out. Still, Aleks feels his heart warm up, heating from how much he’s in love with this boy in front of him, in his arms, smiling at him like there’s only the two of them in this entire world.

“Why don’t you open your eyes and find out?” he suggests, because apparently both himself and his heart are going to be cheesy as hell tonight.

He thinks he can get away with it, though, because Trevor opens his eyes, tentatively, and the sight is definitely one to behold.

Aleks leans their foreheads together, one hand still rubbing soft circles on the skin of Trevor’s hip, and he thinks about how he’s so certain now that his father was wrong. Boys _can_ be beautiful, and Trevor is living proof of it.

He’s beautiful, in the way his eyes gleam bright along with the stars above, in the way he’s smiling at Aleks so gently that Aleks feels a string pull in his heart, effectively stolen away. He’s beautiful, and now he’s Aleks’.

***

 _ **L.O.V.E.** is our hands intertwined together  
_ _Is all the sweetest kisses we share  
_ _Is all the dearest embraces we give  
_ _Each moment feels beyond heaven._

_⸻[Y.Ê.U. (L.O.V.E.)](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qGb7H6aN32I) by MIN_

**Author's Note:**

> [tumblr](https://roccketraccoon.tumblr.com/) | kudos and comments are very much appreciated.


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